


Steak-in-Waiting

by Keiko Kirin (sakana17)



Series: Steak [6]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-03-25
Updated: 2001-03-25
Packaged: 2017-10-03 03:45:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakana17/pseuds/Keiko%20Kirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one with the plague quarantine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steak-in-Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> Mega-thanks to Merry for beta-reading and lots of help, to J for giving me the plague idea, and to L for constant encouragement and ideas.

Jack clicked Save, Print, and closed the last report of the day. Goodbye paperwork, hello vacation. A whole three days off. Three days he hoped to spend sleeping, fixing the leaky faucet in the bathtub, grilling steaks, and having sex with Daniel. Not necessarily in that order.

The final agenda item wasn't a given. On the list in his mind, he'd pencilled it in. There was no reason to suppose they wouldn't have sex -- because they had agreed, more or less, not to stop even though they really should stop -- but there was also no reason to suppose that they would. There was always the possibility that Daniel had reconsidered. Truth be told, Jack had reconsidered. Once, in a momentary lapse of what-the-hell-am-I-doing that had vanished the next time he'd seen Daniel. Now he was over the reconsidering stage. He just wasn't sure Daniel was over it, too.

But even if Daniel was reconsidering -- three days was three days. They could still have the steaks. Jack smiled as he dropped off his reports, thinking about the steaks. He'd gone to the upscale grocery store on the other end of town and picked up the best cuts they sold. Right now, they were sitting in the freezer, waiting to be given the best, most careful, most attentive Jack O'Neill treatment. He couldn't wait to get his hands on them and introduce them to their new best friend: his grill.

Steaks and Daniel occupied his thoughts as he changed clothes and shrugged into his leather jacket. On the way out, he detoured to Daniel's office and peeked inside. As he suspected, Daniel was still there. Assuming the body only barely visible from behind the stack of books was Daniel. Jack's gaze swept along the curve of the back. Oh yeah, that was Daniel all right. He approached the desk, giving the books a cursory glance.

Behind them, Daniel, head pillowed on his arms, was asleep. His glasses were crooked. Next to Daniel's elbow was one of those damned, useless blue stones from 925. Daniel wasn't going to give up. Every chance he got, after every mission, he was back to working on the blue stones.

Jack rested his hand on Daniel's shoulder. Daniel didn't move. Jack thought about waking him, but he took another long look at Daniel's face, peaceful and sort of dorky looking in sleep, and decided against it. He found a pad of post-its and a pencil and scribbled, "Grill tomorrow," on the top sheet. He tore it off and left it on the one spot where he was sure Daniel wouldn't miss it: on top of the stupid stone.

He was nearly at the elevator when the red lights started flashing. Airmen jogged past him in all directions, and some medical personnel swept by, carrying emergency kits. Jack frowned after them. When he got to the elevator, two airmen blocked it.

"Sorry, sir," the taller one said. "The mountain's been sealed off. Quarantine."

Jack glared at him, but the airman refused to meet his eye. Well, he still had three days. How long could the quarantine last, anyway?

\-----

It was the driving dream again. He and Jack in a convertible of indeterminate make, cruising along a high, winding, mountain road that was somewhat like the California coast, and somewhat not. The road, and wind, and the feeling that they didn't have to get anywhere, it was just a drive. A couple of times, Sam and Teal'c had been with them, in the back seat. Teal'c told a joke they all laughed at, and Sam wore a hat that fell off. This time, it was only he and Jack, and Jack drove with one hand, and placed the other one over Daniel's, on the seat between them.

A noise woke him up. People in the corridor, where the red lights were flashing. Daniel sat up and adjusted his glasses. Lieutenant Simmons glanced in. Daniel got up and went to the doorway. "What is it?"

Simmons said, "Quarantine. The mountain's sealed. No one can come in or out until the docs have given us all a clean bill of health."

Daniel went back to his desk, frowning. Quarantine. Right when he had three days off. As he sat down, his eyes fell on the stone he'd been working on, now covered with a yellow post-it note. Jack's scrawl said, "Grill tomorrow."

Quarantine better be over by tomorrow, then. Daniel had plans for his days off: laundry, catch up on the last three issues of _Archaeology_ magazine, and, now, steaks at Jack's place. And, probably, some sex. If they felt like it. If? Who was he kidding?

Daniel removed Jack's note from the stone and stuck it onto his desk, as more of a goal than a reminder. He picked up the stone, turned it over in his fingers a few times, and set it down again. He reached for the next book in his pile. He could at least get some work done while waiting for the quarantine to be lifted.

\-----

"Three days," Colonel O'Neill said again. "Seventy-two uninterrupted hours. Of rest. Relaxation. Steak. There could be nothing better for my health. Trust me." He twitched his eyebrow.

Janet uncapped the hypodermic, inwardly sighed, and gave him a sympathetic look. "I need to take a blood sample," she said.

He obligingly shrugged out of his jacket and rolled up his sleeve. "What is this thing SG-11 brought back with them, anyway? Some kind of virus?" he asked.

Janet inserted the needle and filled the vial. She hesitated before answering. "We think so. I've never seen anything quite like it. It may have been bio-engineered. I asked Major Carter to help us analyze it."

Colonel O'Neill held his arm up and bent it at the elbow, pressing a small swab of cloth over the insertion point. "Good. She'll figure it out, and I can go home and get my three days."

"Colonel," Janet said warningly. "You can't go home until we're sure you're not infected. That may take... a long time." She didn't want to mention that it might take longer than three days.

He hopped off the examination table. "Carter will figure it out," he said firmly. He stalked out of the infirmary.

Janet sighed and reached for a clean syringe. "Send Doctor Jackson in next."

Daniel came in, wearing a black t-shirt and no jacket, sat down on the examination table and held out his arm, ready for the blood sample to be drawn. "How are SG-11 doing?" he asked.

It didn't sound like idle curiosity. Janet paused. Of course. Daniel had recently spent a lot of time with SG-11. He knew them.

She pursed her lips. "Not good, I'm afraid." Daniel stared at her for a moment.

"Oh," he said, and frowned. "If there's anything I can do..."

"Thanks." Janet smiled. "I'll let you know."

A nurse escorted the members of SG-7 into the infirmary. They milled about, removing jackets or rolling up sleeves. A tray of blood samples was collected and taken away to the labs. Daniel hopped down from the table and left.

When he reached the bio analysis lab, Jack was already there, peering over Sam's shoulder into the containment cubicle. Two technicians in lab coats worked at separate cubicles. Sam looked into the cubicle's built-in microscope.

Daniel stood next to Jack, who glanced back at him and muttered, "No luck yet." His stance, the look on his face, and his civilian clothes all said Jack hadn't given up hope for a quick solution. Daniel sympathized. Three days were at stake.

He watched Sam change microscope plates. She stood up straight and wiped her hair back from her forehead. "This is incredible," she said, facing them. "I think it's an engineered bacillus. A retrovirus created to invade the bloodstream and infect the host. It's replicating quickly, like the nanocites we've encountered, but it's organic."

"Don't we have stuff that should have detected this...?" Jack gestured uncertainly, looking uneasy.

"We can only detect what we've encountered before, sir. What we know to look for. This is behaving like a bacillus found on Earth, but it doesn't match any of the known strains in the CDC or WHO databases."

Daniel looked inside the cubicle, at the blood-spotted glass slides. "What's it behaving like?"

Sam paled and lowered her voice. "The symptoms are like septicemic plague."

"Plague?" Jack repeated loudly. The two technicians turned around and stared at them. Jack cocked his head and looked apologetic.

"The symptoms are plague-like," Sam said, "but the infectious agent isn't like the one found on Earth. So it might not be plague, just something very similar we've never encountered before."

She spoke carefully. Daniel watched her, and identified what she wasn't saying: this type of plague was usually fatal. He spared another glance at the slide samples, and shoved his hands into his pockets. He smiled encouragingly at her. "We'll let you get back to work."

Jack looked at him. He looked at Jack. Jack looked at Sam and nodded. "Yeah."

Daniel left the lab, not surprised when Jack fell into step beside him. "So," Jack said. "How about a cup of coffee? Until this quarantine is lifted."

"I thought I'd go back and work on those inscriptions," Daniel said. Jack said nothing, but Daniel was sure he was rolling his eyes. "I'm not going to give up, you know. The answer has to be there."

"Yeah, yeah. Well, if you change your mind, I'll be in the commissary." At the next intersection, their paths diverged.

Daniel headed straight for his office and sat down at his desk. A few memories of SG-11 on the P4X-925 dig distracted him at first. He focused his concentration on the blue stone.

They had brought back over two-hundred stones from 925. Ninety-eight of these had inscriptions on them, mostly fragments. Most of the stones were smoothly shaped except for a few chips and cracks, and it was impossible to tell how they had once fit together. Assuming they had. Also impossible to know what was missing. They'd brought everything they could find, but Daniel was certain there was more back on the planet, waiting to be unearthed. Years of archaeological work they simply couldn't spare the manpower for. He had to find the answer in these ninety-eight stones, or give up.

After a few minutes, Jack wandered into the office. Daniel kept working, checking the word forms on the stone against his notes. Jack did his usual circuit of the room, picking up things and replacing them, before stopping in front of the desk and waiting for Daniel's attention. Somewhat annoyed by the interruption so soon, Daniel ignored him until he'd finished searching his notes.

"Jack," he said, looking up.

Jack smiled. "How about a break?"

Daniel pursed his lips. "Coffee counts as a break, and I said I didn't want any."

"Yeah, but that was an hour ago."

Daniel checked his watch. Jack was right. Huh. He glanced at Jack, and back at his notes. "Actually, I'm not at a good place to stop, so if you don't mind..."

Jack lifted an eyebrow and shrugged. "Yeah, okay."

Daniel rolled his pencil between his fingers. "Maybe later."

"Later," Jack said, walking out of the office. Daniel returned to his notes.

When Jack reappeared, Daniel checked his watch first. Two hours had passed since the first interruption. It depressed him to think he'd spent three hours on one sentence fragment and still wasn't any closer to understanding what it meant.

Jack had taken off his leather jacket, some small concession to the fact that they weren't going anywhere soon. But he was still dressed in his street clothes. Daniel suspected that if he could have worn a sign around his neck that said Off Duty, he would have.

He watched Jack toy with the blue stone and set it down again. He admired Jack's fingers -- how they moved, how they held the stone. His gaze moved up Jack's arm to his shoulder, lingered on Jack's neck before following the line of his jaw and chin, the shape of his lips.

Daniel glanced down at his notes. "Any news from the infirmary?"

Jack shook his head. "Not much. They took blood from everyone on base, and they're checking to make sure we're not all plague victims." Jack paused and looked at Daniel, serious. "No change for SG-11."

Daniel nodded and sat back, tossing his pencil aside. "What about Sam? Did she find anything?"

Jack's gaze darted to the desk. "I don't know. They closed off the bio lab."

Daniel had a sudden, clear mental image of Jack wandering in and out of the lab, distracting the technicians. "Oh."

"I couldn't see anything from the observation room. Didn't look like they'd found anything yet, though." Jack tapped the desk. "So, ready for that break yet?"

He looked so eager, Daniel was tempted. But he hated to disrupt his train of thought. And, truthfully, he knew that if he went to hang out with Jack, he wasn't going to be in any hurry to come back to these stones. They were supposed to have three days together. That time had already been cut short by almost six hours.

Daniel looked at his books and notes. "Well, to be honest--"

Jack lifted his hands to cut him off. "I get the picture."

Daniel gazed at him steadily, until Jack returned the gaze. A rush of warmth spread throughout Daniel's body. "Later," he said. "I promise."

Jack nodded, not looking away. "Later."

When Jack was at the doorway, Daniel asked him, "What about Teal'c?"

Jack sighed. "Kel-no-reem."

Daniel lifted an eyebrow and picked up the stone.

A group of airmen filled the corridor. Jack waited until they'd passed before he left. He stood outside Daniel's doorway, practiced his golf swing, and checked to see if Daniel had been watching. Daniel had not been watching. Daniel was fascinated by a stupid blue stone.

Jack wandered slowly through SGC. Most of his killing time plans were already used up. He made another circuit: observation room to watch Carter and will her to figure this evil virus out, save the world, and save his three days off. Infirmary to eavesdrop for news on SG-11 and the plague, until Doc Fraiser booted him out. Swing by General Hammond's office to find the door locked and Hammond on the red phone. Check out the commissary and decide against poisoning himself further with their coffee. He wondered if Carter had tried the coffee as an antidote yet. Surely that stuff would kill any virus within ten feet.

It was time to begin the second stage of killing time. First stop was Teal'c's quarters, to pry him out of the kel-no-reem to end all kel-no-reems.

"O'Neill," Teal'c greeted without opening his eyes. Jack carefully navigated through the circle of burning candles and stood in front of him.

"You've never meditated this long unless you were dying," Jack said. "You're avoiding me."

Teal'c opened his eyes, gave Jack a level look, and didn't deny it. Jack punched the air. "Couple of rounds in the ring? Whaddya say?"

Teal'c lifted a long-handled candle-snuffer and started extinguishing candles. "Daniel Jackson asked you to leave his office again, did he not?"

Jack slid his hands into his pockets and blew on a candle. "Not in so many words."

"I see."

The gym was busy. With everyone confined to SGC, it wasn't surprising that so many would take the edge off with exercise. Jack and Teal'c sparred at one of the punching bags until Coburn and Judickas left the boxing ring. Jack went a few rounds with Teal'c, who was, as usual, carefully holding back. A crowd of airmen formed around the ring, watching or waiting. Jack called for a time-out, taking off his gloves.

Mopping sweat from his brow, Jack leaned against the wall and watched two new guys take the ring. God, they looked younger and younger these days. He realized they were easily half his age, probably more than half. Jack wiped his neck and glanced at Teal'c.

"The weights are free. Spot me," he said.

Teal'c raised one eyebrow a fraction of an inch and inclined his head. Jack narrowed his eyes. "What?" he asked.

"Do you not wish to rest for a few minutes?"

Jack frowned. "Do I look like I need to rest?" He wiped the towel across his cheek.

Teal'c stared at him for a moment and answered, "Yes."

"Oh." Jack slung the towel over his shoulder. He looked down at himself. "But I'm in pretty good shape, don't you think?"

Teal'c answered slowly, "You are in excellent shape. For a human of your age."

The qualification wasn't lost on Jack. He cocked one eyebrow at Teal'c and watched the guys in the ring for a moment. They were really going at it. Fast, too. Just watching them was making Jack sweat again. He cuffed Teal'c on the shoulder. "Okay. Short break, then the weights."

Teal'c was fairly merciless at the bench. Normally Jack appreciated this -- it drove him harder and he felt a nice, small buzz of accomplishment at the end of a work-out -- but today he would have been just as happy if Teal'c had slacked off a bit. He was distracted. He was thinking about the plague. He was thinking of his three days, rapidly slipping into two-and-a-half. He was thinking about Daniel. He was wondering if Daniel noticed what good shape Jack was in and appreciated it. He was wondering how Daniel stayed in such good shape when he seemingly didn't do a single thing about it.

"Hey, Teal'c," he said between panting breaths as he replaced the bar. "Do you ever come down here and work out with Daniel?"

Bad move. The break gave Teal'c an excuse to add more weights. "I do not."

Jack flexed his fingers around the bar and lifted, grunting from the effort. Now that he thought about it, hard to picture Daniel in the ring or on the treadmill. Maybe they shouldn't be eating so much red meat. Wasn't it fattening or something?

That thought led him back to the steaks waiting for him at home. He lowered the bar. "That's it for today."

"O'Neill. You are capable of lifting much more than this," Teal'c said. About as chastizing as Teal'c was capable of.

Jack slid out from under the bar and sat up. "I know. That's it for today."

\-----

Daniel's back and shoulders ached. He checked his watch and was surprised at how many hours had gone by between Jack's visits. Maybe Jack had found something to do. For an instant, he imagined Jack lounging in the VIP suite, napping, and imagined joining him there. Oh no. Not a thought to be having here and now.

He stood up, stretched, and went for a walk. He ended up in the infirmary. It was strangely quiet after the chaos of earlier. Doctor Fraiser, Doctor Warner, and General Hammond stood at the far end, talking in low tones. As he walked in, Janet spotted him and walked up to him, face so concerned he knew her question before she even spoke.

"Are you feeling all right?"

Daniel smiled briefly. "I'm fine. Just taking a break." She relaxed a little and nodded.

"I wanted to ask about SG-11," he said. "I was wondering if I could see..." He trailed off at the change in her expression. Her eyes widened and her mouth set in a tight line.

"Oh, Daniel," she said softly. "I'm sorry. I thought someone would have told you..." Her look of sympathy was so grave, for a wild, panicked second, all he could think was Jack was dead. Or Sam. Or Teal'c. How many times had he waited for this news? Prepared himself for something it was impossible to be prepared for.

But it made no sense, and the panic died. "Tell me what?" he asked.

Janet shook her head. "Captain Durning died about an hour ago. The rest of SG-11... It doesn't look good. Unless we try something drastic, we may lose them. That's what the general and Doctor Warner and I were discussing when you came in."

His gaze strayed to the general and Doctor Warner. "So Sam hasn't found anything," he said.

Janet sighed. "We know it was engineered and it mimics septicemic plague, but the onset is much faster than normal. We're not sure why Captain Durning's condition deteriorated so rapidly. He may have been the first exposed to the infectious agent. We've administered one round of antimicrobic therapy to the others, and what we're discussing now is whether we should proceed with another round so soon. Normally, we'd wait a week between injections, but this isn't behaving like a normal plague."

"Accelerate the treatment because the infection is so accelerated," Daniel said.

Janet nodded. "Yes. But even with normal cases of this type of plague..." She didn't finish the sentence. She didn't need to. Daniel saw the tired lines around her eyes and mouth, and thought of all the hours she'd been working to save her patients, only to lose one already. He nodded his understanding and turned to leave.

"Let me know if there's any change," he said.

"I will."

He took a long walk after leaving the infirmary, through corridor after corridor. In the beginning of his life in Cheyenne Mountain, he had thought all the corridors looked alike. Now he knew most of them by heart, and registered their differences automatically. He passed SGC personnel of various classifications and ranks, some wandering aimlessly like himself, others striding purposefully toward a destination. Some were loitering, talking among themselves. A few said hello as he walked by. It astounded him how many names and faces he still didn't know.

He was in front of Jack's office before he knew it. He stopped and looked inside, not at all surprised that Jack wasn't there. Jack spent as little time there as possible. Daniel had been in the SGC for months before he even knew Jack _had_ an office. He stared at the far wall, trying to remember what Captain Durning looked like. It should have been easy enough to remember; Durning had more or less haunted him for three weeks on P4X-925 last month, keeping an eye on him for Jack's sake. All because Jack had fed him some bullshit about a bet, and Durning was happy to do a colonel a favor.

It was no use. He couldn't remember Durning's face. He kept walking.

\-----

Jack turned over the next card, hoping for an eight, getting a two. He snapped at it with his finger and stared at the row of cards before him, looking for a way to get rid of it. What a stupid game. Who invented solitaire anyway? Still holding the two, he peeked at the next card in the deck.

"That's cheating." Daniel slid into the chair across the table. Jack set the deck aside, next to his cup of hours-old, petrified coffee. Daniel reached for the cup, peered inside dubiously, and replaced it with a faint air of disgust.

"The last pot was three hours ago," Jack said. "Then the coffee ran out." He glanced back at the commissary counters. "There may still be some tea."

"No, thanks." Daniel sat back and folded his hands over the table. He looked tired. Troubled.

"Those stones giving you the blues?" Jack asked with a small smile, privately amused at his little joke. Daniel didn't reply. Jack touched one finger to the ten of spades and slid it onto the wrong pile.

"Captain Durning's dead," Daniel said after a while. Jack looked at him for a moment and nodded. He'd figured things were bad, since they were all still here. He gathered up the cards.

"They're going to try some drastic treatment," Daniel said. "Try to save the rest of SG-11."

Jack straightened the deck and tapped it against the table.

"At least no one else has been infected..." Daniel paused. "Durning had red hair, didn't he?"

Jack held the deck in his palm and didn't reply. He watched Daniel steadily, saw Daniel's look of concentration, of frustration. He reached across the table, briefly touched Daniel's wrist, and quietly said, "Don't."

Daniel blinked. "Don't?"

Jack moved his hand away and cut the deck of cards. "Don't try to remember."

Daniel's brow creased. "Why?"

Jack met his gaze. "It's easier not to," he said.

Daniel was silent for a moment. "But..." He stopped and sat forward. "I guess you're right."

Jack shuffled the cards. He slid the deck to Daniel, who cut it into two neat, even piles. He gathered them and shuffled again. He dealt their hands.

"What are we playing?" Daniel asked.

Jack stared at the cards before them. "I don't know. Gin?"

Daniel shrugged and picked up his hand. "Okay."

The game was slow and quiet. Jack was winning. He waited for Daniel's next play and rearranged the cards he was holding. Durning had had sandy blond hair. One of those upper lips that looked like he had a mustache when he didn't. Fat face. A wife and two kids. Hammond would have written to the wife already; he was good about stuff like that, getting it done quickly, getting it over with. Jack said a silent good-bye to Durning as he picked up his cards.

Personnel wandered in and out of the commissary as they played. Invariably, someone would walk over to the coffee pots, check them all out, ask if there was any more, and be told no. Maybe they should make an announcement on the PA: _There is no more coffee in Cheyenne Mountain_.

Jack chewed the inside of his lip and watched Daniel frowning at his card hand. He waited a few more seconds.

"Daniel..."

"Just a minute." Daniel waved him off with one hand. Jack set his cards face down on the table and propped his chin on his fist, staring at him.

Daniel blinked over the cards. "Don't do that."

"Just waiting for you to take your turn."

"Staring at me won't make the wait any shorter," Daniel said doggedly.

"Play, and I won't stare."

Daniel narrowed his eyes. "Don't stare, and I'll play."

If he could have grabbed Daniel and ravished him there and then, he would have. And he didn't spare a second for regret or fear for thinking about this here and now. Surrounded by death, tense waiting, and boredom. He was still off duty, dammit. If he had to lose his vacation to the plague, at least he could lose it having inappropriate thoughts about Daniel.

"You're doing it again," Daniel muttered, finally making his play.

Jack picked up his cards and smirked. "I knew it," Daniel grumbled.

"Better luck next time."

"Don't stare at me, and maybe so."

Jack smiled and started shuffling again. Another group of people entered the commissary. He waited for the No More Coffee Moment. Someone fell heavily into the chair next to him. He glanced over.

It was Carter. She looked exhausted but triumphant.

"Good news?" he asked.

"How are SG-11?" Daniel asked her, sitting forward.

Carter shook her head and gratefully accepted a glass of water from Lieutenant Simmons, who hovered by her chair. "I haven't seen SG-11 yet, but I think we found the answer. We tried every antimicrobic treatment we could think of, and finally hit on one that destroyed the invading retrovirus' DNA. Doctor Fraiser is trying it on SG-11 now."

"Great," Jack said, smiling at her. "I knew you could do it."

Carter shrugged. "Actually, sir, it was a team effort--"

"Of course, of course," Jack said, pulling back from the table.

Daniel looked up at him. "Where are you going?"

"Infirmary. Didn't you hear? An antidote means we can get out of this place." He checked his watch. "Only thirteen hours late."

"Colonel..." Carter began, but he didn't wait to hear her out. She was only going to say something sensible which would destroy his optimism. He made his way to the infirmary. A minute or so later, Daniel showed up, accompanied by Carter.

Doctor Fraiser emerged from the isolation ward, removing her mask and gloves and tossing them into a haz-mat bin.

"How does it look?" Jack asked, not liking her serious expression.

Fraiser shrugged. "We have to wait and see." She smiled briefly at Carter. "But from our preliminary tests, it looks like you found the right treatment."

Carter smiled back. "Good. I'll tell Doctor Thompson, and he can get to work on the vaccine."

Jack glanced from Carter to Fraiser. "Vaccine? Does that mean--?"

"I'm afraid so, Colonel," Fraiser said. "Everyone has to be inoculated to make sure we don't bring the alien bacillus into the outside environment. The effects would be catastrophic. After inoculation, we'll have to collect another blood sample before anyone can leave."

Jack frowned. "But no one else is infected."

Fraiser shook her head. "I'm sorry. We can't take any chances. I've never seen anything act this quickly."

Jack stuffed his hands into his pockets. "How long are we talking about?" He looked at Carter, who shrugged.

"Shouldn't take too long for the vaccine, now that we know what we're working with. A couple of hours," she said.

"And by then, we should have more complete tests on SG-11," Fraiser added.

"Yeah, okay," Jack said. He looked at Daniel, who looked relieved, resigned, and tired. "Another round of cards?"

Daniel was staring at the door to the isolation ward. "No, that's okay. I think I'll go back to my office, get some more work done."

Jack nodded and touched Daniel's arm. "Come on. Doc Fraiser's got it under control."

Daniel roused himself and left with Jack. As they navigated the corridors, it was obvious the good news hadn't spread yet. They didn't tell anyone. There were still hours of waiting ahead.

Jack walked Daniel to his office. Daniel sat down at his desk and reviewed the notes and books he'd left open. Jack lingered in the office. Daniel peered up at him over the rims of his glasses. "Jack."

Jack's eyes scanned the walls before settling on Daniel. "Maybe I could, you know, help."

"Help," Daniel repeated, skeptical. "With this."

"Sure." Jack shrugged. "How hard can it be?" He paused. "Okay, don't answer that. But I've helped you before."

Daniel turned his pencil over in his fingers. "When you had the language of the ancients in your brain, and when we were stuck in a timeloop for several months." He watched Jack pick up one of the books and read the spine. He was sorely tempted to say yes. Not to the help, but to Jack. He wanted to be with Jack, he knew Jack wanted to be with him, but not like this, and not here. He'd been so casual about those three days off, before the quarantine. Laundry? Reading? Forget the laundry. The reading could wait. If they ever got the little-more-than-two days left of their vacation back.

Daniel cleared his throat. "I appreciate the offer. Really." That sounded less than convincing, even to his ears. Jack frowned at him.

"Yeah, okay," Jack said. He walked over to the door and paused. "But if you change your mind..."

Daniel smiled. "I know."

Jack disappeared into the corridor and Daniel stared at the notebook in front of him.

Blond. Durning had been blond. He remembered that now. And big. Fat, stubby fingers that clutched fragile bits of pottery a little too tightly. They hadn't talked much, despite Durning's vigil over Daniel. Happy enough to accept Daniel's authority when it came to archaeological digs, though.

These were the memories that surfaced. Jack was right: it was easier not to remember.

Daniel silently bid Durning a peaceful rest in whatever afterlife awaited.

\-----

The commissary had become makeshift quarters. In between those eating, drinking, or playing cards lay dozing SGC personnel who had failed to find an available bunk. Teal'c walked between the tables, hands clasped behind his back. He found O'Neill sitting alone, resting his head on his arms, over an array of cards.

"O'Neill."

O'Neill sat up abruptly. "What?" he asked, looking around. He had been asleep. Teal'c raised an eyebrow.

"I have been sent by Doctor Fraiser to inform you that the vaccine is now ready," he said.

O'Neill leapt to his feet and smiled. He clapped Teal'c's shoulder. "Yes. Finally." He looked at his watch. "Only fifteen hours late."

They left the commissary together. Teal'c said, "Should we not inform Daniel Jackson?"

O'Neill looked over at him. "An excellent idea. Yes, we should."

When they arrived at Daniel Jackson's office, they stopped in the doorway. A cot had been set up next to the desk and Daniel Jackson was curled up on it, asleep. O'Neill stepped forward and watched him, but made no move to wake him. Teal'c thought of the many hours Daniel Jackson had spent working on the inscriptions which were so frustrating to him. He wished he could have been of assistance.

Daniel Jackson looked very peaceful in sleep. O'Neill crouched next to the cot and carefully rested one hand on Daniel Jackson's shoulder. "Daniel," he said quietly.

Daniel Jackson stirred and opened his eyes. His movements were slow, as if he had been in a deep sleep. Teal'c noticed the intense, warm look Daniel Jackson gave O'Neill before O'Neill cocked his head in Teal'c's direction. Teal'c inclined his head at Daniel Jackson and smiled. "There is good news. The vaccine is prepared."

Daniel Jackson sat up and put on his glasses. "Already?" he said, looking at his watch. O'Neill patted his shoulder.

"Already," O'Neill said in a voice that made it clear he felt the wait had been far too long.

O'Neill was therefore disappointed when they approached the infirmary and saw the long line of personnel waiting for inoculation. "There's a wait?" he said, gesturing in frustration.

"I believe personnel who are scheduled for offworld missions are to be first," Teal'c informed him. O'Neill cursed under his breath.

Daniel Jackson rubbed his lower lip with his thumb. "Why do you have to be inoculated?" he asked. "Doesn't your symbiote protect you from the plague?"

Teal'c looked at them both. "I believe the damage would be too severe and rapid for the symbiote to repair. There is also the risk that I would carry the virus within me and infect humans even if I remained unaffected."

"Where's Carter?" O'Neill asked as they stepped forward in the line.

"She is helping Doctor Fraiser. She tested the vaccine on herself, so she is already inoculated."

O'Neill raised one eyebrow and looked at Daniel Jackson. "How convenient."

The line moved slowly, weaving around the infirmary until it reached Doctor Fraiser and her assistants. Despite the crowd, it was quiet. There was an air of restless expectation, even though they knew there would be more waiting after the inoculation.

Jack had his sleeve rolled up when he reached Fraiser. Daniel shrugged out of one jacket sleeve. Teal'c was wearing a t-shirt. Fraiser and two assistants administered the injections more or less simultaneously. Fraiser smiled at Jack. "There you go, Colonel."

"Now how much longer?" he asked her.

She gave him a sympathetic look. "Another hour. I'm sorry, Colonel, but we have to take every precaution." Jack nodded unhappily and pulled his sleeve down.

"How are the rest of SG-11?" Daniel asked.

Fraiser smiled wearily. "In stable condition. They'll need a lot of rest after this, but I think they'll be okay."

"That's good news," Daniel said, looking in the direction of the isolation ward.

Jack stepped aside as the next people in line came forward to get their shots. Daniel and Teal'c left the infirmary, but Jack paused to ask Doctor Fraiser, "Where's Major Carter?"

Fraiser readied a hypodermic. "As her physician, I ordered her to get some rest." She looked at Jack sharply. "Something I may order for you if you don't get out of the way."

Jack left willingly. He retrieved his leather jacket from his office and tracked down Daniel and Teal'c in the commissary. Daniel eyed his jacket as Jack folded it over a chair.

"You heard the doc," Jack said. "Another hour, and home free."

"At least another hour," Daniel said. "Did you see the line of people waiting to be vaccinated? It could take them all night."

Jack frowned at him, sat down, and reached for the playing cards. "Game of poker?" he asked, shuffling the deck. "Toothpick ante."

Teal'c nodded and Daniel went to get a box of toothpicks. They played hand after hand, Teal'c accumulating the most toothpicks, as they waited. Daniel, damn him, was right. It was taking forever for Doctor Fraiser and her staff to inoculate the whole base, and when the time came to collect final blood samples, the teams scheduled to go offworld were again top priority. Fortunately, they had available lab personnel to run the blood analyses, but even so, Jack wondered when Fraiser had last had a break. He thought of his endless hours of killing time and felt selfish. Still. The vacation couldn't start early enough for him.

When they were finally called for blood samples, Fraiser wasn't even there. Doctor Warner told them she was taking a well-deserved nap, and Jack felt a little less guilty. Samples taken, it was another hour of waiting for results.

A final hour that crawled by in silence. Teal'c had gone back to his quarters. Daniel had gone back to his books. Jack rested his head on his arms and listened to his watch ticking.

When he thought he could stand it no more, thought he was going to have to open one of the emergency hatches and climb to the surface, Warner called them back for the results.

"Everything looks fine," Warner said, flipping through a chart. "No signs of infection. You're free to go."

Jack was halfway out the door before Warner could finish his sentence.

\-----

They had lost most of a day. That still left two. At this point, Daniel would take anything he could get. Jack's good-bye at SGC had been quick; Jack was racing to the elevator at the time. Daniel cleared his desk, turned the lights off, went to change into his civilian clothes, and went home.

As soon as he walked in the door, he wanted to collapse on the bed and sleep for the next forty-eight hours, but he reminded himself there was steak in his immediate future. Steak and Jack. Or, more accurately, Jack and steak. He gathered some clothes, his travel toothbrush, a couple of issues of _Archaeology_, and stuffed them into an overnight bag. He kept himself awake for the drive to Jack's house on pure anticipation alone.

He parked, and the anticipation high left him. He dragged himself to Jack's door, rang the bell, and nearly fell inside when Jack let him in. Jack closed the door and looked at him assessingly.

"Bed?" Jack said.

Daniel blinked at him. Once, and then his eyes were closed. "Yes," he said, and Jack's hands were on his hips, Jack was behind him, guiding him to the bedroom. Daniel leaned against Jack's chest. He was so tired he felt drunk. Let Jack do all the work. Jack had done nothing all day but play cards.

In the bedroom, he woke up enough to strip, peripherally aware of Jack doing the same. Then, the best feeling in the world: crawling into bed and curling up next to a warm Jack. Jack whispered, "Goodnight, Daniel," and brushed a hand over Daniel's hair. As he drifted, Daniel remembered, faintly, that he had never been naked in Jack's bed before, so this was sort of an occasion. The thought left him as sleep embraced him.

Warm, bright light filtered in through the windows when Daniel woke up. It must be late morning or early afternoon. He had no sense of the time, and didn't care, because he was right where he needed to be. He rolled over and watched Jack sleep for a while, before he had to touch, had to kiss, had to bring their bodies together. Jack woke up, stretching, yawning, smiling.

"Awake now?"

Daniel pushed against him. "Can't you tell?"

"Mmmm." Jack kissed him slowly, a kiss that melted into more, one after another. They pressed together, and moved together, and each careful touch flooded Daniel's skin. It was slow, and sweet, and warm, with an edge of restlessness, a hint of frustration released. Daniel rubbed the back of Jack's neck as the shudders subsided, and said, "We lost a day."

Jack slid one fingertip up Daniel's torso, from his stomach to the hollow of his throat. "I'll start thawing the steaks."

The day was lazy. Showers, shaves. Daniel, wearing undershirt, boxers, and glasses, sat at the dining room table and read while Jack made toast and eggs and coffee for breakfast. Technically lunch, given the hour. Jack set a time for the grilling to begin. That left a few empty hours in between. Without discussion, without hesitation, they were back in the bedroom, back in bed, clothes in a heap on the floor.

In a lull between make-out sessions -- and it was odd to think of them as that, but Jack was at a loss for a better description -- Daniel stretched out on his stomach, folded his hands under his cheek, and closed his eyes. Jack watched him dozing and touched the nape of Daniel's neck. He smoothed his hand down Daniel's back, then up, and across. Daniel smiled without opening his eyes and rolled his shoulders beneath Jack's hand.

"Shoulders stiff?"

"Mm," Daniel said.

Jack rubbed one with his thumb. "From yesterday. All that sitting, and waiting, and tension." He sat up. "Here, let me give you a back rub. And I mean that in a let-me-give-you-a-back-rub kind of way, not in a porn movie I'm-coming-onto-you kind of way."

Daniel opened his eyes and glanced back at him. "Porn movie?"

"You know what I mean."

Daniel settled and closed his eyes again. Jack smoothed his palm along the back of Daniel's head and neck, before bringing both hands to rest over Daniel's shoulders. He rubbed slow circles with his thumbs, pressing with the heels of his hands. Daniel sighed softly and relaxed. For a while. Until he opened his eyes and said, "This doesn't seem right somehow."

Jack lifted an eyebrow but didn't stop rubbing. Daniel's skin was very warm and smooth and felt good under his fingers. "Why not?"

"You're the one with the bad back."

Jack frowned and straightened his spine. Since when did Daniel care about his back pains? "I don't have a bad back," he said. _Or knees_, he silently added. Daniel merely gave him a sidelong glance in reply. "Okay," Jack conceded. "Next time, you can do me."

He paused. Winced at his choice of words. Daniel lifted his eyebrows, blinked slowly at him, and started to smile. Jack grabbed two handfuls of shoulder and rubbed a little more thoroughly. Daniel closed his eyes, still smiling, and rolled his shoulders to Jack's rubbing.

Jack worked outward from Daniel's spine, totally enjoying this. Daniel was becoming all melty and was probably falling asleep, but that was okay. Jack's own shoulder began to ache from reaching over, so, after a momentary hesitation, he straddled Daniel's lower back. Daniel must have been asleep, because he didn't react. Jack kept rubbing, palms flat, fingers splayed, down Daniel's back.

Okay, uh, this felt _really_ nice. Disturbingly really nice. There was a neat set of thoughts here that Jack wasn't ready to think about, not yet, but at the same time, well, it felt scarily disturbingly nice. He licked his lips and slid back a little, and, oh yeah, okay. He was straddling Daniel's ass. Parts of him were touching Daniel's ass, and not in any oops, accidental move kind of way. Before him was the broad expanse of Daniel's back, the gradual slopes of his ribs, the valley where his spine ran straight, the deep curve of his waist. Some lingering, hidden, idiotic inner voice said, _I should not be attracted to this_. The other 99.9% of him was too busy being attracted to it to say anything at all.

And meantime, his hands kept working, smoothing and sliding and stroking. Touching everything before him, everything he could reach. His fingers glided back up to Daniel's neck to rub the short hairs there, and he watched Daniel's face. And he knew, maybe knew it all along but hadn't acknowledged it yet: Daniel wasn't asleep, hadn't been asleep the entire time.

Already pretty far gone, this realization sent Jack into full-blown, raging hard-on mode. He leaned forward and kissed the back of Daniel's neck, and slid his hands along Daniel's sides. Daniel arched beneath him, tilting his head forward to offer more neck, and if he hadn't already been harder than hell, the sensation of Daniel moving beneath him would have done it. He stroked up, over Daniel's shoulders. Daniel stretched his arms out, over his head, and Jack's hands followed them. He touched his lips to that spot on Daniel's neck, and Daniel sighed and shifted under him again. Daniel's fingers pressed back against his own and wove between them until Jack was clutching Daniel's hands, sucking on Daniel's neck, and pressing his hard-on against Daniel's ass.

Daniel released one hand. He reached down and back and did something... moved... parted his ass... oh god, oh oh oh oh _oh_. Jack caught his breath and whispered, "Daniel..."

"Jack." Daniel's voice was muffled by shoulder and pillow.

Jack took another long, steadying breath, and held himself perfectly still. As still as a guy with a racing pulse and pounding hard-on could be. "Daniel," he said again.

Daniel writhed under him, knowing damned well what he was doing, what it had to be doing to Jack. "Jack," he said.

Jack bit the inside of his lip. "Daniel, don't get me wrong... but... this is moving pretty fast, don't you think?"

"Jack," Daniel murmured. He sounded amused. "Just... trust me." He shifted again, and Jack hissed. Daniel smiled and whispered, "Just... stay there." He snaked his hand back up to take Jack's.

Jack inhaled deeply, stared at Daniel's smile, held Daniel's hands, and exhaled. And stayed where he was. With his cock, full and throbbing, nestled against... on... between... _Held_ there. Held pretty wonderfully there, between, and not inside. He rocked back -- oh god -- and rocked forward, and was still held, wonderfully held. Still holding Daniel, pretty much blanketing Daniel.

He kissed Daniel's neck and shoulders and back. He squeezed Daniel's fingers. Daniel moved beneath him, knew exactly what he was doing, and Jack rocked. Felt the heat of Daniel's skin brush against his nipples and chest, brush against his balls, felt it holding his cock, and... Okay. This felt good, this felt mind-blowingly good, and to hell with whatever inhibitions Jack had left, Daniel had a great ass. There. He'd admitted it, because, damn, it was true. Firm, and round, and strong, and... a great ass, a great back, a great body, a great mind, Daniel was just all-over great.

Jack rubbed faster, Daniel moved with him, arching. Jack found a delicious curve of shoulder to kiss and bite. He thrust once, and again, and was no longer held between, but it was still so good. So good. Shudders poured through his body as he came, hard, squeezing Daniel's fingers.

Coasting on his high, Jack sank against Daniel's body, felt the sticky streaks of his come mixed with the slickness of Daniel's sweat. He panted against Daniel's shoulder, resting his head there, and he didn't want to move for about a million years.

Daniel wiggled his fingers. Jack carefully loosened his hold. He stroked Daniel's arms, gently, in slow, long caresses. Daniel stirred beneath him and Jack reluctantly moved, sliding off of him. For a long time, they lay there together, silent, messy, drenched. Late afternoon sunlight angled through the window and cast shadows across the bed and across their bodies.

Daniel's voice was soft. He settled on his side, facing Jack. "So, how, exactly, was that different from the porn movie back rub?"

Jack raised an eyebrow. His gaze travelled down Daniel's body. Daniel watched him checking, could almost hear him asking, _A good time was had by all? Oh, yes, it was_.

Jack's eyes met his. Nicely buzzed from incredible sex, Daniel smiled and ran his fingertips across Jack's chest, through his chest hair. Jack covered his hand, lifted and caressed it, rubbing Daniel's palm with his thumb. Daniel watched him, watched their fingers together, felt the soft warmth from Jack's touch.

Jack glanced away, to a spot on the wall somewhere beyond Daniel's shoulder, and Daniel waited for him to ask.

"Is that something... Do you think about... Do you want..." Jack shook his head a little and frowned. He looked at Daniel. "Still too early to have this conversation?"

Daniel slid over, closing the space between them, and drew Jack into his arms. "Still too early."

Jack let out a breath and relaxed against him. Daniel closed his eyes, pleasantly drowsy and lazy, until his skin cooled too much to be comfortable. He rubbed the back of Jack's neck and sat up. Jack yawned and stretched and watched him get out of bed. The close, satisfied, proprietary look Jack gave him warmed Daniel, so he lingered over picking up his clothes. Jack's smile and the twitch of his eyebrow told Daniel Jack recognized and appreciated the lingering.

Clean and damp and dressed, he sat outside and read while Jack showered. It was a warm, clear evening. When Jack came outside, he switched on a porch light for Daniel to read by and got started on the grill. Daniel half read, half watched Jack, and finally tossed the magazine aside. He sat back and looked up at the sky as the last streaks of sunset faded behind the trees.

_Another whole day of this_, he thought. He tried to regret the lost day, but found he couldn't. It didn't matter now, because they had another whole day ahead.

Jack nudged his shoulder, carrying two plates. "Steaks are done." Daniel looked up at him and took the plate. It smelled delicious, and he was starving. He cut into the sirloin, grilled perfectly, and took his first bite. Jack watched him with a cook's attentive eye, so Daniel savored it, showed his satisfaction. Entirely genuine. The best steak he'd ever tasted, and well worth the wait.

(the end)


End file.
